Posted by Hedwig on January 15, 2008
I’m sorry. I mean, I tried. I tried with the 40 year-old Virgin. I tried even harder with Knocked up. And now I tried with Superbad, and I can’t escape the inevitable conclusion any longer. I’m sorry. I just can’t get on the Judd Apatow bandwagon.
It’s not that I don’t like his films. I like ‘em plenty. It’s not that they don’t make me laugh, Superbad in particular has great moments, the penis drawing scene, of course, but also small details like the cops yelling “shit! the cops!”. But they don’t inspire me to write raves. In fact, I found out looking back that Knocked Up didn’t inspire me to write anything, at all, and I don’t really have anything to say about Superbad either. Sure, it’s sweet underneath the profanity, and it’s quite admirable how Apatow doesn’t look down on the two main characters while making fun of them. But the girls are just as flat (metaphorically, of course, literally they’re pretty curvy) and poorly motivated as in the other movies. And I don’t think you can call teen horniness a revelation.
Ultimately, I don’t think his movies have much staying power. Well, not quite: they’ve obviously shown to have staying power, they just don’t stay with me, and I have no need or desire to see them again. The only exception? Anchorman. I saw it for the third time around new years, and the sheer absurdity of it keeps growing on me.
I do have a slight crush on Seth Rogen, I still have to figure out how that works, exactly. Anyhow, bring on the McHatin’!